“There, it's too late to talk about that now,” Fred said, shortly. “I've made a fool of myself, and you can't tell me that more strongly than I feel it myself. The question is, what is to be done? My own idea is, that I had better go and see Captain Bradshaw at once—of course knowing nothing about what has taken place. He will do the indignant, and I must be penitent; then, of course, I shall urge youth, inexperience, artful woman, crafty old father, and so on; create as good an impression as I can, profess regret for loss of his good opinion more than that of future fortune; take my leave much depressed, and leave things alone for a few weeks before I approach him again. I suppose that is about the line you recommend?” “Yes, Fred; I don't know that you want much advice from me,” his father said, dryly. “By the way, you must say the same sort of thing to your mother when you see her. She was in the room, and heard it all, and has been terribly put out, but of course she does not blame you.” Fred looked annoyed. “I am sorry the old lady heard it. We must talk over the best way to shut that madman's mouth. Well, I shall go and get the business over at once. I will come in to Hans Place after I leave him, and let you know the result.” It was not with very comfortable feelings that Fred Bingham knocked at Captain Bradshaw's door, for he felt that it was by no means improbable that orders might have been given that he was not to be admitted. The footman, however, opened the door and admitted him as usual. “How are you, James? My uncle in?” “Yes, sir, he's in; but he's not well—something wrong, sir,” he added, with the privileged loquacity of an old domestic. “Oh, indeed!” Fred said, carelessly. “And Miss Heathcote, is she in?” “She is in, but you won't see her, sir; she's poorly too—kept her room all yesterday and to-day. Master is in his study, sir.” Fred Bingham braced himself up for a scene as he followed the footman to the study. The servant opened the door, and announced “Mr. Bingham.” Fred entered. Captain Bradshaw appeared to have been dozing in his easy chair. He looked up, and to Fred's astonishment, instead of saluting him with a torrent of invective, he merely said,— “Why, Fred, you are soon back again in town. Tired of your honeymoon already?” Fred was too much surprised to answer at once, and was rapidly revolving in his mind whether this manner was a mere mask assumed by his uncle. However, after a moment's pause, he answered,— “Not tired at all, uncle; but I had to run up to town for a day on business. I go down to Cromer to-morrow again.” “I think you might have told me you were going to be married, Fred.” “Well, uncle, I hate a fuss about these things, and we were married as quietly as possible; so I thought I would say nothing about it until I could tell you that it was all over.”